My New Left Hand

This piece allowed me to explore medication, dosages, the concept of what is neuroprotective and how music and movement can help to bridge the gap during “off” times.

My Left Hand

Until this summer, my left handwas my right hand’s hero,her big sister,stepping in whenevershe was needed.

This was always true, the way it iswith most sets of hands-She could always write clearer letters,throw a ball farther, make a bigger muscle,not a show-off thing, just the way it was.They still worked together –a sister-teamof trapeze artists, each with her ownbag of tricks, and the little one alwaysheld her own…She could catch a ball falling from highin the air, zip a zipper, turn a key,wave good-bye, any thingshe was asked.

But over these last years,because of a slow leakin her brain,the little sister has weakened,losing strength and muscle,and speed.

In the first year, she’d find herselfcurling like a baby’s handfor no reason, and the armshe depended onstopped taking her for swinging rides.

In the second year, her skillful fingerswould stick on keyboard keys, pressing letters over and over,as if glue stuck her, one finger at a time,to letters she loved too much.Her big sister, alarmed, learned to reach acrossand pick up the extra workwith no complaints.But she couldn’t help when her little sistercouldn’t beat a drum,so that year, they both stopped drummingwith the little boy.

In the shower, the big sisterbegan to wash both sides of the head.The little one tried the old familiar motion,hard and rapid, up and down, the way she’d always moved, but it seemed as if some heavy weight, a great tiredness,forbade her, and she’d done nothingwrong.

In the third year, she was dropping things;glasses, keys, (often on the dog’s head as they triedto return home from a walk,) whatevershe might be holding.Embarrassed, she would not ask for helpturning the key, buttoning left to right, opening a bottle.Her sister was doing plenty, she told herself.Enough was enough, she’d say, she’d do it herself,and with effort,slowly, she would.

But now her sister’s been toldit will begin to happento her. It said soin a picture of her unreliablebrain.

Who will help them both,she wonders,and how will they play catchwith the boy?